


Dancing on a thin line

by Oliver99



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Aerial silks, Dancer, Edward Helps, Eventual Edward/OC, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Men's Artistic Gymnastics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, figure skating, mental recovery, my version, past trauma, twilight - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-08-27 14:25:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16704160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliver99/pseuds/Oliver99
Summary: My mom loves Twilight and made us watch it. Long story short: instead of making a scene about how bad it is, I remembered that every story has the potential, it's people who screw it up. So I decided to rewrite it on my terms, removing all that sparkling-superhero-glitter stuff, as I think it distasteful and ruining everything. Honestly, a relationship like that, with so much of a disproportion between partners, should be labeled unhealthy before even forming. So I decided to make the vampires much less irrational and more human instead. Just as I decided to give our no longer glitter-covered friend a better fitting partner, and a reason for not finding a partner before: Edward was born a long time ago, I can bet anything on his upbringing being homophobic. As time passes if changes of course, but we all know how hard it is to overcome some steriotypes embedded in us since childhood, especially if it applies to us personally. Without further babbling, here I present you: Twilight rewritten! Let the show begin!





	1. Let the show begin

Bastien sat in his father's car. So far the ride from the airport was very quiet. Charlie picked up both him and his boyfriend Denis, who currently sat at the back seat like a brooding teenager he was not. Honestly, he was the older one, and so he was supposed to behave as such. Yet he decided to remain childishly offended at Bastien's decision to live with his father instead of moving in with him. Nothing could convince him that the younger one simply wanted to make his father happy, that this was an arrangement his parents made and Charlie really needed him. Denis stubbornly believed that Bastien simply didn't want to live with him. 

And he was right. Bastien used every argument he had, but in all honesty he was simply frightened at the prospect of living in the same apartement with Denis. He even tried to discourage him to move from Roubaix in France to Forks, but nothing managed to get him the space he so desperately wanted. He couldn't brake up with Denis for many reasons, neither could he discourage him and make him break up instead. He felt like a mouse in a trap, knowing there was no escape, and yet desperately trying to find one. 

Nevertheless, here he was, rearranging his entire life and bringing it to a place he left as a toddler. Reason? His mother was in a relationship with a guy like no other. And that was neither an exaggeration, nor a lie, as the man his mother was involved with wasn't a human, but a vampire. They met at the theater and fell in love, like in some cheap romance novel for teenage girls. Bastien hated him for a long time, even before he found out how much of a threat to his mother he actually was. Let's be honest, what kid would like a guy who dared to date his divorced mother? No matter how intelligent, nice or handsome he was. Bastien knew there was something off with that man, and made it his duty to find out exactly what it was. 

His investigation took him over a month, which, from the perspective of time, was riddiculously fast. After all, such a great secret should be guarded much better, no teenager should ever be able to figure it out, right? And yet, after dismissing every rational theory he managed to come up with, they were only the irrational ones left. 

Surprisingly enough they were able of working it out. Séverin, for this was his name, already intended to tell Renée what he was, he simply had another reason to stop worrying like an old lady and simply do it, as Bastien told him. A guy who killed people should be brave enough to face the woman he claimed to love. It was hard for them, his mother needed time to take it and, for quite a while, things were rough. Séverin blamed Bastien for making him tell her before he had time to prepare her for such a revelation, yet did nothing to punish him for it. Well, thought the teenager looking thru the window, perhaps he wanted to, but he was way too smart for this. He had to know it would make Renée hate him, and so he waited. Eventually everything worked out for them, and they were seeing each other again, getting closer and closer. And that was what landed Bastien where he was now. 

Renée and Séverin loved each other so much they decided to become more than partners, more even than husband and wife they already were. A few months ago they made a decision to become proper mates: his mother were to become a vampiress herself. She was already introduced the coven, but still they were some preparations to do beforehand, to ensure it all went well. At least that was what Bastien was told, not completely in the dark, but still not an insider either. They were still a few months before, but they wanted Renée to be focused only on the preparation, and her son was proving to be a distraction. They ensured him they simply didn't want him to be harmed, nor to see the somewhat gruesome process, but he couldn't help but feel left out. Nevertheless, he agreed to move out and come to Forks, to a country he left so long ago, that was so foreign and strange after so many years in France. So wild and unpleasant after the taste of France.

Bastien really loved his mother. She was joyful and let him be himself, never judged him for performing a sport viewed as 'feminine', but instead encouraged him to be himself and do what he loved. When he announced to her that he was bisexual and in a relationship with his dancing partner, another man, she smiled brightly and asked when he was going to bring him home, so she could take a look at him with a mother's eye and decide if he was good enough to date her son. She always made him happy. So, in return, Bastien would get out of his skin to keep her happy. He performed without a single mistake, did as well at school as he could, which was really well, he stayed out of trouble (mostly) and kept his problems to himself. He wanted her happy, not bothered by his sadness or really anything he could possibly do wrong. And, for these reasons, he smiled at her and agreed to live here without any argument. He even pretended he was happy that Denis was going with him. All for her sake. 

"Your hair is shorter." Noted Charlie with a slight smile. Sure, the ride was a tad awkward, but it was very visible he was happy to have his son with him. Therefore, Bastien smiled lightly and answered him in his soft voice, with just a tiniest bit of a french accent he desperately tried to hide. 

"Yes, it is. Having longer hair isn't very practical, it used to get in my way while practicing, and any other moment really, so I cut it."

Truth to be told his hair grew much since the last time he cut it, but Charlie wasn't there to see it, so he pretended he was right. His haircut was an example of both the 'famous french extravagance' and modesty of his own. Instead of doing something crazy like some or classy like some others, his hair was cut very short on the left side of his head and grew longer just above his left ear, all touching his jaw on the right side. It suited him, showing the pretty blond and gentle waves of his hair, soft as always. He really liked it, it was nice and yet practical, so, despite it's longness, it wasn't a distraction while dancing. 

"It suits you. Original and all..."

Charlie tried and Bastien appreciated it. No matter how happy he was to have his son back, it always was awkward to see someone after so long. They were in for some needless smalltalk and weirdness before it all would settle down, and they knew it, so they were both satisfied with the fact that the other one was trying. 

"I honestly think you grew even taller, Denis, the last time I saw you, you were shorter!"

Looking in the rear-view mirror, the police chief locked eyes with an almost 6 foot tall soon-to-be twenty-year-old, before turning his attention back to the road. 

"Ah, yes, sir, I believe so too. It was probably the last grow spurt in my life, but I'm glad it happened. I grew quite a bit stronger too, which is good, 'cause I can support Bastien way better while he makes the acrobatic tricks. Though he isn't heavy at all, so I suppose it makes little to no difference."

The raven-haired young man smiled brightly back at his father, showing those shining green eyes and pretty smile, his french accent much more audible. Surprising, how charming he could be in front of others, if he really wanted. Nowadays he rarely was like this toward Bastien himself. 

"Yes, well, he always ate like a bird, even when he was just a kid, so it's no surprise he is as light as one."

His father liked Denis. A smart, strong young man, like a second son. Everyone who ever met him instantaneously became friendly with him, every single time. Even Séverin liked him. He was kind and good toward everybody except Bastien, the only one who truly knew him. 

"That doesn't make any sens, birds eat half of their own weight." - The blond joked, making the others laugh. Light conversations continued for a while, less awkward now, as they drove to the city center to drop down the older boy in front of his new apartement door. 

"Thank you very much, chief, it would take forever to get here without a drive, I appreciate it." - Said the handsome brunet, taking his suitcase out of the boot. 

"It's no problem at all, son. Remember to come visit once you settle down, we should have a dinner like last summer."

Charlie shook his hand and got back at the drivers seat, giving the two of them a bit of privacy. The blond went up to his boyfriend and smiled as honestly as he could manage. 

"Je te téléthonerai quand J'aurai mes choses organisées." He said in french. (I will call you when I have my things organised.)

"Je croix que tu sais Je n'aime pas attendre, oui?" Asked the other in a warning tone. (I bielieve you know I don't like waiting, yes?)

"Oui, Je le sais. Je t'aime." (Yes, I know that. I love you.) It became a routin for them. Bastien quickly learned that saying "I love you's" every now and then eased a little the infamous temper of his overly controlling partner, so he would say it, even as it didn't mean anything at this point. 

"Je t'aime aussi, mon petit cygne." And here it was. My little swan. Something that should be a cute nickname became a painful reminder of what he was. Every time he heard it, the memories of what kind of things usually happened when he was called that came to his mind. Things no one would like to remember. In comparison to Denis he was small and fragile, so easyly hurt. Pretty and breakable, like a swan. 

Back in the car, he smiled softly and talked wit his father about the school he was to attend, how Charlie pulled a few strings to make the principal agree on installing the aerial silks in the gym for his son to practice on. How some old friends of his were dying to meet his source of pride, his smart, handsome and sportive son, how people at school were curious about this 'new french guy', the son of their police chief. Charlie talked quite a bit, which usually didn't happen. He really was ecstatic to have his son back. 

As they pulled in the driveway Bastien smiled at the familiar house, small, but bright, even in this weather. With his suitcase taken by Charlie, who insisted on carrying it inside, he opened the door and looked around. He stopped visiting on holidays a few years ago, instead Charlie visited France. It gave him a chance to see his performances, but Bastien nearly forgot this house. And phone calls weren't the same thing as a real visit. 

On the second floor were the dark door toward which Charlie led him. 

"Come one, open it, I want to see your face."

Normally Charlie kept his emotions to himself, so it was a bit refreshing to see him so openly exited. With one hand on the door handle, he looked his father in the eyes, prolonging a little bit his waiting, before pressing down and opening the dark wooden door. 

His new bedroom made him smile. The dark wooden floor was everywhere in this house, something he always enjoyed. But here, it looked exceptionally good. Everything was white, blue and dark brown wood, very simple, very useful, without any unnecessary decorations. And a big window faced the front yard, letting in the grayish light of the gloomy day. 

"I thought it would be better to let you decorate it like you wanted, but your mother gave me some idea what you'd like it to be, and it isn't much different from how it was when you were little, so I thought..."

He was clearly embarrassed, and suddenly Bastien noted that he was standing here motionlessly for a while. Noticing his mistake, he turned around, with his bright blue eyes smiling alongside his thin lips in an expression of pure joy. 

"Papa, I love it!" - He said more loudly than usual, just to make sure his papa knew how much he appreciated it. This modern, a bit cold style wasn't what Charlie would have picked up normally, himself preferring a more homey decor, but he made an effort of adjusting it for his sons liking, to make him happy. 

"Well"- the police chief said, more embarrassed by his child's happiness - "I'll give you some time to unpack and get settled, you probably wanna shower and stuff... "

With this, he turned around and left. Bastien liked this in him the most. He never hovered over him, never pried on his privacy more than a parent should. It was nice to be alone, without the need to keep talking, pretending he liked everything and was all happy and smiling. He could breathe here. 

Unpacking his things didn't take too long. With all his clothes put in the drawers and a medium-sized closet (organized by type and color - thank you, OCD) and his books put in alphabetical order on the shelves in the corner, there wasn't much left. He caried what needed to the small bathroom to refresh a little, and returned to his new safe space immediately afterwards. Taking a deep breath, he sat on the edge of his bed and mindlessly touched the warm, simple, blue bed cover. It was thick and soft. His eyes scanned the white walls, the desk with a working lamp, the simple, gray rug beneath his sock-clothed feet. With a sight, he pulled out his phone and made a call.  
"Mon cher, I'm sorry it took so long. How are you?"

They agreed to speak English sometimes, to practice the correct accent. He needed to be careful with how he spoke to him, not to seem to inviting, neither too cold, to keep him calm. 

"I'm well. You called sooner than I expected, are you missing me so much?"

Not good. He was playful, it never ended well. 

"I didn't have many things to unpack. I guess it only seemed long to me. And of course i miss you, you know that."

"Of course I do, mon petit cygne. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

Okay, that was a red alert. He needed to do something and needed to do it fast. 

"Charlie really seems happy I'm here. He was talking much more than usual. Normally he's very quiet, reserved, but today he's full of the joys of spring. Guess he really was anticipating not being alone anymore..."

"Yes, yes, your father just can't take care of himself, you told me."

"He really likes you."

This situation was getting down fast. First he was playful, which tended to end badly, then annoyed, which tended to end even worse. Bastien was tired, must have been, otherwise he would be better at handling this conversation. 

"I want him to like you, Denis, you know I do. His approval means a lot to me, but if I didn't stay here, he would get bitter, he would stop liking you."

"Now I feel bitter. I have all my stuff in its rightful place, and now I'm lying on my bed, and I don't like how cold it seems."

He was doomed. 

"I hope you will warm it soon, mon cher. Or would you rather have me warm yours?"

"Denis," He laughed, to make it at least a little less bad than he knew it will be. "it would be the biggest turn off in this world to have sex in my fathers house. When I'm with you at your apartement, I will warm your cold bed for you. But, please, not here, not in my room. It would ruin the mood."

The mood was ruined already, or rather, it didn't come to him anymore, but he needed to have a safe space, a place that was off limits. He didn't want to think of Denis every time he came to his room and think of what occurred here. He wanted this room to be safe. 

"Well then, mon petit cygne, I hope it will be soon. Now, however, I have to go. I need a car here, if I'm to live in this place, so I need to start looking."

With this, the conversation was over. Bastien flopped on the bed, his feet dangling from the edge. He was in for some not so fun time with his boyfriend. He pushed this thought aside, instead focusing on the more pressing matters, like how would the school be tomorrow, or the fact he had to sell his car in France and buy one here, as the shipping would be costly and much longer than he could accept. He couldn't complain, his new car wasn't 'new', but it could always be worse, it could be an old truck or a rust bucket. Instead, he got a nice Opel Tigra, one of the cars he always liked. It wasn't perfect, but the rusting was very brief and hardly noticeable, unless someone was looking for it, and the engine worked quite smoothly and quietly, which was all he needed. There were some necessary repairs, like in every Opel, but nothing pressing or expensive. The color was nice too: plain black, no stupid stripes of a wanna-be racer, no strange colors. 

He sighted and closed his eyes. Just breathe, he thought to himself. It's going to be fine. 

***

The school wasn't hard to find, even though it didn't strike him as a school at all. Where was the feeling that made him thing: this is an educational institution? Nowhere to be found. When he pulled over to the parking he was relieved to notice nearly all cars here were old or rusty. Not in a bad shape, really, but it made his used Tigra look much better than he previously believed it did. Luckily though, he wouldn't stand out very much, as there were some better cars, even a shining Volvo that caught his eye when he drove. Before getting out of the car, he took a deep breath. Here it comes. A new guy in a small school was always a subject of gossip, it was unavoidable. What he learned about unavoidable thing was that it was easier once you simply accepted it and allowed the flow to take you. Go with the flow. 

He hoped against all odds he wouldn't stand out in his blue jeans, white t-shirt and brown leather jacket, matching his brown leather shoes. It was as normal of an outfit he could think of, but, apparently, not here. A pair of students who just came here was gawking at him as he passed with his eyes up, refusing to look at his feet, as if in shame, and his bag nonchalantly tossed over one arm. He heard them giggle and gossip once he passed. Gods, save me... 

The women from the front office showed him his plan and made sure he understood everything, which was nice, as the educational system here was much different from the one he was used to. It was weird, to learn that he was to have the same classes every day. Not a real class, he thought. He was used to having the same group of people around him all day, switching between classrooms and teachers, everyday something different with the same group of people. Here, he felt as if everyone was meant to keep to themselves. 

With a map of the school and a slip to get signed by every teacher securely placed in his bag, he went to his first class. Nothing like some literature to brighten the day. Bastien loved literature, of course, but he was certain he would be forced to go thru everything he knew all over again, which was boring to the extreme. 

Once he entered the building number 3, where he was supposed to have his class, he immidiately regretted ever agreeing to come here. Absolutely EVERYONE was looking at him as he passed. Students either set glances at him or were openly gawking, as if he was on stage... Yes! He thought. Pretend you are on stage, everyone watching in anticipation. You can't let them down, so do your best! It was maybe stupid to compare these situations, but it helped, so, as a wise man said once, if something is stupid, but works, it's not stupid at all. With his face calm and relaxed, his posture impeccable, and his mind under control once again, he walked thru the stream of students, gracefully avoiding every obstacle on his way to the classroom. 

Once he entered the room he copied the other students ang hung his jacket on a long row of hooks, approaching the teacher's desk immediately after. Mister Mason, for that was his last name, sighted the slip and sent him to the empty desk at the back. Everyone was starring at him, and he really felt like he stood out, which was a disaster. He wanted to be left alone, so he kept his eyes on the reading list. All already read and worked thru. As the teacher spoke, Bastien made a few notes of what he deemed important, which was closer to nothing than should be acceptable. 

Almost right after the bell rang, a boy with obvious skin problems and black hair approached him. 

"You must be Bastian Swan, right?"

It took so much effort not to cringe he should get an A just for that. Gods, how he hated hen someone pronounced his name wrongly or, even worse, used some made up diminutive form. 

"Bastien." he corrected his horrible, not-french pronunciation. 

Everyone was eavesdropping, he was sure of it. He tried desperately to control his voice, desperate to hide his foreign accent. 

"Nice to meet you, I'm Eric. Where do you have your next class?"

"Building 6. Government."

He hoped short answers would make it easier for him to speak normally. 

"I'm heading to 4, i can show you the way."

Here it was, an over helpful person willing to get to know the 'new french guy'. 

They walked together and, unsurprisingly, Eric soon started to talk, not noticing people around, walking close enough to listen. 

"So, it must be quite a change for you, eh? This place must be so different from France..."

"Yes, very."

"What is the strangest part?"

Here was where his hope for hiding his accent ended. There was no way to make this short, and he knew his tongue would slip and make him sound weird. 

"The timetable, I guess. In France, we stick together to the same group of students, and we always have classes together. Also, every day has its own classes. Every day is different, and we finish and start at different hours. Here everything is organized in a reversed way, it's just... strange."

At least he controlled his 'r', not allowing it to slip into the normal, purring sound. 

"Really? Wow, I didn't even know. That's quite a change, then." When Bastien stayed quiet, he continued. "You know, you speak English very well."

"I'm a native bilingual." At the poor boy's blank expression, he explained: "When I was little, I learned to speak both English and French from the beginning. It wasn't like with second languages, when you learn at school. Once I started to speak, I had a close contact with them both, so I speak both as a native speaker."

It was by far the longest and the most engaging conversation he had since he came into this dreadful city. Refreshing, yet annoying. He liked a good conversation, like probably most people, but only when it didn't concern him explicitly. He supposed he would be forced to talk about himself for quite a while. 

Fortunatelly, they made it to the building that held his next class, so He was able to part his way with this overly present boy. 

The day went rather peacefully, if one didn't count the constant starring and giggling of many girls and a few boys. Honestly, was it such a sensation that someone new could show up? He already hated his trigonometry teacher, Mr Vagner. Not only did he make him introduce himself to the entire class, as if he was in primary school, but he also made him sit next to a short girl with curly, brown hair, who obviously tried to sense if he would be interested in her. She was nice, sure, but the way she smiled, "subtly" pushed her chest out a bit, it all made him want to cringe. 

"I like your accent." She said after his punishment, as he called the introduction, was over. It too made him make a face. 

"I'm certain it will fade when I get used to speaking English on regular basis again." He hoped out loud. 

"Shame. It sounds nice, so... exotic."

He didn't comment on that one. He didn't say he didn't want to be exotic, or visible at all for that matter. He didn't want to be a curiosity here, like a freak of some sort. He wanted to be done and over with this. But he never let it be shown. He kept his posture perfect, his movements graceful, his head up. He refused to let them see under his mask of a perfect new guy. Everything he wanted them to believe, he carried on a silver plate in front of himself, showing off his exterior. 

The trigonometry girl walked with him to the cafeteria. While sitting in class, he never noticed how tiny she was. Bastien wasn't very tall, only 5'7'', but she was a lot smaller than him. She was very talkative, which worked to his advantage, as he only had to nod and "uhm" while she did all the rest, not even bothering to keep up. 

Lunch was another kind of hell. Out in the open, visible for everybody. Carrying himself like all day, he gathered some salad and an apple and sat down with the trigonometry girl, whose name he forgot, and her friend, who she introduced to him. There were, sadly, too many of them for him to manage to attach every name to the face of it's owner, so he had the labels, without the persons they signified. 

It was then, in a busy cafeteria full of teenagers, trying to make polite conversations with a few nameless strangers, when he first noticed them. Sitting as far away from the others as possible, there was a group of five people, three males and two females. Not looking at him or one another, not talking, not eating. 

They all looked different. One was practically a giant in his eyes, muscled, with dark, curly hair, looking like he could crush Bastien with one hand. The other one was taller, lean and muscled, with blond hair not unlike his own, and yet very different, more honey blond than his wheat-like one. The third guy was just that: a guy. He didn't look like the other two, who could just as well be in coledge by now. He still looked like a teenager, not yet a man, not a boy any longer. His bronze colored hair looked like a serious bed head, but not in a bad way, rather like he spent hours in front of the mirror, making it look as if he woke up like this. 

The girls were polar opposites. One was classically beautiful, like a girl from a magazine for "men only", with long, wavy blond hair. The other one looked adorable, like a fairy, petite and thin, with her hair deep black, pointing in every direction. She left suddenly, leaving the remaining four complitelly different teen.

Yet, they were all similar in some ways: pale like ghosts, with deep, purple shadows under their black eyes. 

Suddenly he went rigid. He knew those symptoms. Those eyes and shadows, he've seen them before. In his mind he saw Séverin before a long rescheduled hunt, with eyes just like those, looking as if he didn't sleep in ages. His perfect features, his paleness. He was absolutely certain if he touched one of them, he would be able to feel that their skin was a few degrees colder than his own, permanently cool for the touch. 

The dots in his mind connected themselves without even a bit of help. Here he was, in a crowded cafeteria in his new school, in the quiet company of five hungry vampires. Oh joy... He remained calm, nevertheless, remembering what Séverin taught him. "If you see them in a public place, don't fret. If they are capable of being there and don't go insane, it means the have at the very least SOME control over themselves. Unless there is blood being spilled, you and everyone else are in no danger. Just don't allow them to be alone with you until you make sure they pose no threat. And, remember, the bond protects you."

It made his heart, which lost its rhythm for a brief moment, settle down again. The bond he made with Séverin connected him to his coven, made it obvious to those with senses keen enough to tell, that there was a vampire taking him under his protection like a parent would. His scent bore a hint of his stepfather, making the other vampires unable to thirst after his blood. It appeared to them like it did to humans: not at all. They could be attracted to his scent, but it wasn't appetizing at all. At least that was how Séverin had put it. 

He was in no immediate danger. Much farther from it than all the other students in this room. He would stay cautious until he was certain they were in control of their own vices, but aside from that, there was no reason to bother himself with their presence. 

And yet he couldn't just let his eyes slip away from them. It wasn't their appearances that made them so enticing, but the presence. Not a physical one, but a mental one. With his gift he could sense one of them, but they were too far, to close to each other, and he was way too unfocused to be able to tell precisely which one. He was sure however, that one of them was gifted in a way that made his skin itch. Someone there was capable of prying on other people's minds and was shamelessly doing it. He could sens them, oozing their own mind, encircling this entire place. This person was listening to private informations, to the most intimate part of all the minds present: their thoughts. It made him want to growl. Not only did he have to deal with vampires around him, but with another gifted one in his surrounding, and, for worse, a nosy one. It made him angry. 

"Who are they?" He asked nonchalantly Jessica (he finally remembered her name).

She looked up to see who he meant and, once her eyes landed on the group, she blushed. 

Suddenly, the bronze-haired one looked at her, for just a fraction of second, and then his dark eyes flickered to Bastien's blue ones. Instantanously, he felt the pressure on his locked mind, as if he was poked in the head. At last, he knew who the mind reader was. His gaze held some unmet expectation when their eyes met, which made him wonder: did he do it on purpose, or was it subconscious? Maybe he didn't have this much control over his ability, so it was constantly on?

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen. They all live together with Dr Cullen and his wife." She spoke under her breath. 

The mind reader was now carelessly pulling a bagel apart with long, elegant fingers. Bastien could see his lips moving slightly, and was certain, even though the others remained unresponsive, that they were talking, quietly as only the vampires could. 

"They seam... different." He struggled with speaking in a way that wouldn't seem suspicious. 

"Yes, they are. Different, I mean. Did you know they were all together?!" She changed the subject slightly, speaking in a bit scandalised, yet a bit curious tone. "Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together!" Here it was, the small-town condemnation. Bastien briefly wandered how she would reach at the news he had a boyfriend. 

"They don't look related."

"They are not. Doctor Cullen is really young, like... maybe his early 30s at most. They are adopted. The Hales are the blond ones, they are twins, 18, and miss Cullen is... their aunt, I believe. She took them in when they were 8. I think she can't have her own kids, so they adopted."

The tone in her voice made him angry. No matter what the truth was, she believed the doctor and his wife took in a group of kids, and she spoke the last sentence as if it would lessen their kindness. That wasn't fair, simple as that. It was apparent, with the way she looked at them, that she was jealous, so she tried to find something in them that she could frown on. 

"Have they always lived here?" Even though he didn't visit for four years, and he knew about vampires since just a bit above two years, he was certain he would have noticed them at some point. They stood out a lot. 

"No, they just moved down about 2 years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

Here it was. All the clues he needed to figure out what to do. If they lived here for 2 year, they must have been "well-behaved", or they would have been noticed and long gone by now. This meant they were in control of themselves, at least enough to function normally, so Bastien, along with the rest of people here, was safe. Safer than the rest, actually, due to the bond. 

True the entire conversation the pressure on his mind didn't cease. It was very annoying, he felt as if the guy was poking him on the head with a stick. Not painful, but so freaking annoying... He was still staring, not gawking like the rest of the students during this entire day. His expression was frustrated. This made him so much more grateful for the training in his abilities that Séverin used to give him for almost two past years. His mind was impenetrable, unless he wished to show someone his thoughts. He was certain now, that this reader never met his polar opposite, someone capable of blocking him so effortlessly. 

"Which one is the one with the reddish-brown hair?" He asked, seemingly not bothered, as he felt the urge to learn the guy's name. 

"That's Edward. Gorgeous, obviously." It was hard not to agree with her. A minus of being bisexual? When you meet a group like this, and you can't decide who is the most beautiful of them all. To his standards, however, Edward was very high on this imaginary podium. Losing only to Jasper and Alice, yet very close to them. Seriously, those two were like a work of art, a painting of a lovely pair. 

"He doesn't date, though. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." Her words pulled him out of his own little world, instantaneously making him wonder when did he turn her down. Then he pondered: maybe they were good-looking enough, but they were too much girls for him? On the contrary to the popular belief, people with a sexual orientation different from hetero didn't have radars build into their brains. They couldn't catch some mysterious "gay-vibes" or whatever. But there were some signs, like with everything. People oozed their personalities all over themselves and those around them, so why this should be different? The corner of Bastien's thin lips raised slightly at the thought of Jessica's face after learning that not only one, but two of the boys she seamed to take an interest in weren't straight. Even Bastien didn't give her a big chance for a catch, himself preferring men to women. He didn't know why, he just did. 

The vampires lip twitched. He must have read the girl's thoughts and found them amusing. Bastien himself had a completely reversed gift, so he couldn't hear what was going on in her mind, but it was pretty obvious. 

After a few minutes, they all left and the irritating pressure eased out noticeably. Up untill now, he didn't even know how bad it was. He already could feel an upcoming headache. 

Another girl, who was thoughtful enough to remind him her name was Angela, had biology together wit him, so she offered to show him the way. She was much more quiet than Jessica, more timid, which, personally, Bastien found adorable. Once they entered the class, he found out she already had a neighbor, so he would have to find another one... and all the tables were filled, all but one. The table next to the center ail, where sat no other than Edward Cullen. The teacher, Mr Banner signed his slip and handed him the book with no nonsense about introduction, which was nice. He didn't like being treated like a kid. 

After taking a deep breath for courage, Bastien went to take a seat next to this mysterious mind reader. His eyes were cold and hard, expecting, furious even. Just when he got close, the pressure on his mind got stronger, and he winced slightly, fidgeting on the chair. Luckily, the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something he already studied, so there was no need for him to take notes or pay close attention, which would be impossible in this company. 

The teacher was talking, but he couldn't hear a word. His head throbbed with the assault of the vampires mind on his own. He started to feel sick. Not being able, or willing, to take it anymore, he closed his eyes for a moment to get a grip of himself, took a breath and threw a short glance at the other one, who was still starring. Gathering his will like Séverin taught him, he feeled for the mind next to him. It was foreign, unfamiliar, but all minds worked in similar ways, so he was able to send a single thought from his mind to the one of the vampire, still looking in his eyes with bold expression, angelic blue meeting hungry black. 

《Stop that, you're giving me a headache.》

He saw, for the briefest moment, how his eyes opened wide, how he turned his head and started to take notes, and he felt the presence go away considerably, fading from the point of pain to an itch, not comfortable, but bearable. That must have taken Edward by surprise, not only someone was able to block him AND send him a message, but also was aware of it all and dared to order him around. Bastien was certain he wouldn't have listened if it wasn't so shocking of an experience. 

When the class was over, Cullen practically run away, out at the door before others had a chance to start gathering up their things. Bastien wasn't too happy with this turn of events, but he suspected the boy needed to consult with his siblings. Séverin taught him quite a bit about vampires, and one of the most important things was that their existence, their unique nature, needed to remain secret. If he felt like someone was a threat to that secrecy, he must have been a bit panicked. 

"Aren't you Bastein Swan?"

"Bastien." He corrected, before even looking up. In front of him was a cute blond boy, with his hair carefully gelled into spikes, with a smile on his face. Smiling back, Bastien extended his hand. The other boy, a bit surprised by his gesture, shook it carefully. Another thing different here: no one shook hands. Well, it wasn't that common between french teenager either, he supposed. Maybe it was just because of the specific kind of people he himself was surrounded by, most of whom were a lot older than him. He never mixed well with people his age. 

"I'm Mike. I was wondering, you need any help with finding your next class?"

"I'm heading to the gym, actually, so I think I can manage."

"That's my next class too!" He seamed thrilled, even thou in such a small school it wasn't that big of a coincidence. 

They walked together, Mike chatting all the time. He lived in California until he was 10, so he knew how Bastien felt about the weather here, even if he didn't complain once since coming here. 

"By the way, did you stab Cullen with a pencil at the beginning of bio, or something? He was acting as if you offended him or something."

He decided to cover it up with a slight laughter. 

"I noticed too. I think something happened today to make him angry and, as I was close, he decided I was a good enough target for his frustration."

"Not fair. Everyone get's a bad day sometimes, but it's not cool to take it out on others."

Well, Bastien supposed he did offend him in a way, by blocking his ability he practically laughed in his face. 

"If I was lucky enough to sit with you after having a bad day, I would have talked to you. I"m sure it would make me feel better."

Oh, this one is definitely gay, thought Bastien. That, or he is in some way related to a golden retriever. He was sure the boy was either flirting with him, or he was just like this, always happy. Or both. 

"By the way, I like your hair. It suits you, so different from all the guys from here." Flirting it was, then. O dear, that was awkward. 

"Thanks."

He went to find the teacher after that. He remembered he had to get permission to use the gym after hour to train, and he wanted the teacher to agree on making him pass the subject in an alternative way, by his aerial silks instead of some stupid ball games. Fortunatelly, coach Clapp was impressed by the amount of competitions he'd won with his partner, so he was willing to find a solution. In his opinion, someone so talented would demotivate the rest, so he said they would cut a deal. Bastien would run a 'gymnastic club' for his grade. Basically it meant he would help the teacher make some teenagers move their lazy asses to have a chance of watching an attractive boy in leggings do acrobatics and attempting to teach it to others. Not really a perfect deal, but Bastien always wanted to be a teacher AND an acrobat, so it was something. And with an additional class he would be preoccupied enough to have less time with Denis. Mutual gain. 

When the class was over and done with Bastien turned down his slip, signed by all the teachers, and headed in the direction of his car. There they were, the Cullens and the Hales, all gathered up next to the shining Volvo, talking quietly. When he got close, Bastien could see them turning to look at him. The pressure on his mind attached again with full strength, making him gasp and sent a warning gaze at Edward. He was provoking him? Well, be my guest. 

《I believe I already told you to stop.》

He gasped in return, his lips moving as he spoke to the others while Bastien walked slowly to his car, parked near their Volvo, not turning his gaze once. The look was expecting again, but the presence went away further than before. Was he expecting him to read his mind in return?

《I can't hear your thoughts, if this is what you are worried about. But I know ASL.》

It was a diplomatic approach he was certain the other one would understand. And, surely, his hands started to move, unnoticed by anyone beside the four others and the message's recipient. 

"I believe we need to talk." He signed. 

《Then we have a problem.》 At his raised eyebrow he continued. 《We can't talk here, with all those students around, without attracting unnecessary attention. And I'm not going to talk with you alone.》

"Why?"

Bastien smiled mischievously. 《I'm not stupid enough to go somewhere all alone in the company of an unknown vampire.》

They all were shocked, as Edward immidiatelly voiced what he was 'told', but Bastien didn't stay to watch. He got into his car and rode away without turning around even once. Now was their move.


	2. Get to know

Bastien learned the day before that Charlie couldn't cook anything beyond fried eggs and bacon. Unfortunately, he inherited the fragile stomach of his french grandparents: if he was to eat his fathers favorite, American food, he would never be able to hold anything down, throwing up farther than he saw. 

However, with his mother's inability to cook anything edible, he had to learn to do it himself, so he believed he would be able to cook something they could both enjoy, and that wouldn't make him sick. Charlie liked stakes, so Bastien decided to go with that, because he could prepare something like potatoes for his father, and himself only take the meat and make himself a salad containing it. It wasn't as if he couldn't eat normally, it was just that, with all the anxiety this place was causing him, he preferred not to take any risk. 

And gods, he was angsty. He had enough trouble of his own, and would really do without any additional attractions. Yet here he was, alone, waiting for Charlie to come back from work, not able to concentrate on his homework that shouldn't take long as it was painfully simple. He sat at his desk, starring at his notebook, trying to read the words written in his small (unnervingly so for others) handwriting. All in vain, he couldn't stop thinking of the possible consequences of his actions. He was careless, teasing not only one, but a whole group of vampires, from all he knows numbering in whole no less than seven people. That was a whole lot, from all Séverin had told him the covens rarely were this numerous. 

Vampires had trouble forming big groups, more often than not it ended in a slaughter that left only a few of them alive. The only ones bigger than this, which he knew about, were Volturi and Séverin's coven. His stepfather told him that his group, who called themselves The Hidden Coven, only lasted this long, because he took great care of keeping them together. Even his wife wouldn't become fully a part of this society without a proper introduction. That was why it took so long. Every time he intended to add a new member, he checked if they were compatible with them all, if they would fit in without any immediate threat of violence. Bastien never said it out loud, but he admired the other man for taking such great care of those he led. 

Yet even this train of thoughts met it's switch, focusing back on the group of strangers. He kept wondering what they might do in this situation. Will they decide to kill him? Will they leave? Will they stay? If so, would they rather confront him, or ignore him? All those questions kept repeating itselves in his head, mingling with his other worries, doing nothing to soothe his twisting stomach. He sighed, forcing himself to just do his homework. 

***

The next day was both better and worse. It wasn't raining, he knew what to expect from his day, and people were starring far less than they were the first day. Those things would normally make it just better. But none of the Cullens were at school, and he had no idea what to make of it. Sure, it could have been worse, he could have been dead by now. But he was expecting something. He wasn't certain what it was, but cowardice was not that thing. Oh, they didn't leave permanently, he was sure of it. If they did, all the school would be yapping about it. Yet their absence was worrying, the maddening desire to be over with this made him feel sick. 

The whole week went in a similar manner. The Cullens never showed up, he would finish his classes, an hour before the rest of the school thanks to his exceptional situation, head home, cook and do homework. Ever since that second day, when he was finally permitted to enter the school gym after hours, he went straight there once he was done with schoolwork. The aerial silks in here were more than satisfying, to his relief. It amused him that they were blue. How convincing, his favorite object in this place was in his favorite color. 

The acrobatics were helping him to stay calm enough to function properly, especially since Denis was still getting settled, searching for a job and a car, which gave him some space. He honestly didn't know what he would do if he'd be forced to deal with him above all else that was happening around him. Working out was exactly what he needed right at that moment, to simply stop thinking about trouble and focus on the present instead, on the music, the rhythm, the best way to perform his acrobatics with grace and do not fall. It was simple, familiar. It was good. It was just so similar to what he tried to leave behind... so similar to that he used to do instead...

By Friday the school had a new subject for gossip: the gymnastic club. Once again he could feel the curious glances on his skin. Some were the sweet looks mostly girls would send him, some were envious, some were disapproving. He didn't care for any of them. It was clear from the start that there would always be some people who believed that his hobby was 'for girls', or who would wonder what kind of acrobatics he would be able to perform in a more private scenery. 

Coach Clapp said he wouldn't supervise most of the time, but he had to do so at the beginning, to check if he could rely on Bastien, and, of course, on some lessons thru the year, so he would be able to give Bastien his grade. They would start in two weeks, right after their PE, so coming back home would no longer be an option. He would have to stay in school and wait, most likely do his homework while there. Not a big loss, so he was rather fine with it. 

The weekend came sooner that he wanted it to, and right with it came Denis. Fortunately, it was only a dinner with his father, one that he himself prepared. He made sure everything was good and fitted right in the taste of their guest. Denis would joke with his father, discuss every subject, from weather, thru news and to football. Bastien never understood American football. It wasn't even 'foot' ball, rather some weird form of rugby! He didn't get the rules, the unnecessary brutality, even its name made no sense at all. Baseball he could understand, but to talk football, Charlie needed Dennis. During the entire evening, Bastien could see those hungry glances the other man sent him, the expectation in those green eyes. He pretended he didn't notice anything, played his role until time came for their guest to leave. He was glad Charlie offered to drive him home, thereby sending him a clear message he will not stay the night. Charlie might have been okay with him being with another man, but he doubted the police chief could possibly think they already had sex, therefore was not willing to create a situation that could lead to it happening, especially not under his roof. 

Charlie went to start the car, as it was cold this late at evening, and he wanted the cabin to heat up a bit. As soon as the door closed behind him Denis had Bastien pined to the wall in the hall, his lips viciously attacking the blond's mouth, neck, collar bone, his hands roaming all over his body, sliding under the clothes. Bastien felt sick. He was never against the idea of being pined down, but it was Denis who was doing it, this cruel man was touching him, and he wanted it to stop... 

"I would just love to stay and peal those clothes off of you. " His words made Bastien turn his face away, seemingly shy, but in reality he was practically praying to his cruel fate to spare him just one more time. "Unfortunately, your father is clearly convinced he's protecting his virgin boy from deprivation."

Denis's hands grasped his hips with a maddening force that made him grind his teeth to quiet down a yelp of pain. With his hands clenched in fists on the others man chest, and his forehead touching his collarbone, Bastien waited for the pressure to lessen. It didn't. 

"Maybe I should make him aware that his little boy would rather have me balls deep inside himself than talking politely in the living room, huh?" The pressure on his hips was unbearable and a pathetic whimper escaped his clenched teeth. 

"Denis, please..."

"I just love it when you beg me like this, you know?" One of those hands grabbed his jaw and yanked it up, so he had no choice but to look the other in the eyes. Those green eyes, tilled with cold madness. Seconds later he was free, pushed back at the wall, and Denis was zipping his jacket. "I will see you another time, mon amour. " He said, blowing him a kiss, then walking thru the door and into his fathers car. Basien was shaking like a leaf. He felt like everything around was sliding up, his breath was coming out in pants, the sound of TV coming to him deformed, like he was siting in a well. Before he saw the black point obscuring his vision, he ran into his room, pushing the door shut with the full impact of his back hitting it, then slid down all the way to the ground, where he sat, curled up, until his breathing became normal once again and the world stopped spinning, and the feeling in his hands came back. 

His panic attacks always left him feeling hollow, everything around unreal, like a dream, his emotions pushed back to the depths of his mind. Everything was covered in a haze as he stood up and went to shower, like usual. He didn't remember getting in the shower, like he stood there his entire life, like this was what life looked like, just this small space, hot water falling down, mist covering everything. After some time, which could be either a minute or an hour, he started to regain more and more consciousness. He sighed, turned down the water, so there would be some warmth left tor Charlie, and stepped out of the shower, toweling his hair dry. At some point he turned to a long mirror on the bathroom door, not wide enough to fit him whole, instead cutting him in half. There were dark bruises already blooming on his bony hips, meant to look far worse in the days to come. Mindlessly he touched it, wincing at the bang of pain there. He got dressed without looking at himself anymore. 

Before he went to bed he decided to clean the kitchen, not willing to put that on Charlies shoulders. The other man walked in just as he was putting the last dish in the cabinet. 

"You know, you should have just left it, you made the dinner, so it would be fair if I cleaned up, don't you think?" He was standing in the door frame, looking at the spotless counters. 

"It's nothing." His voice sounded weird, emotionless, and he had to force himself to speak. Charlie sighed, scratching his chin. 

"I hope you aren't mad I didn't offer him to stay. It's just... I know he's only two years older, not full two years even, but... you're both so young, and at your age it does make a difference... I just... what I'm trying to say is... I don't want you to feel... obligated to do something you don't want to, because he's older and..."

It would have been funny, if it wasn't so damn tragic. The irony was getting to him even thru the haze covering his mind. Charlie was trying to be a good father and protect him from a trap he was already so deep in. He smiled softly and turned toward him. 

"I understand, I really do. And I'm grateful you did this."

"Just... if anything was wrong, anything at all... you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

It made his heart ache to look into his fathers eyes and lie. He forced himself to smile playfully and speak. 

"I wouldn't, I would lie till the very end."

"Okay, go to sleep, kid." Charlie thought he was joking, maybe even making fun of his fatherly antics. But he was telling the truth. He'd rather die than let Charlie know what Denis was doing to him. 

***

Sunday came and went, and Bastien recovered from his mini breakdown. This encounter left him a little shaken, but he knew how to deal with it. When he showed up at school again on Monday, he was once again reigning in his mind. 

That day, a new surprise came to him. The shining Volvo was once again parked in front of the school. So they were no cowards, they weren't about to leave the town. It actually pleased him. No matter how annoying the mind reader was, Bastien was interested in his abilities. They were polar opposites, and yet they were similar, like avers and revers of one coin. Bastien couldn't help but wonder what they would achieve if they were to train together. Training with Séverin gave him so much, even thou their gifts weren't so well-matched. 

Monday had a reward for his waiting and nerves. It was snowing. The beautiful, fluffy, white powder swirled in the air when he was on his way to the cafeteria with Mike. He stopped dead on his track, looking up at the beauty before him. 

"Oh Gaia, I love snow." He said to himself under his breath. 

"You know, it's funny when you say that. You say Gaia quite a lot, when others say "oh gosh". " He forgot about Mike, who was standing right next to him. "I mean, what does that even mean?" He teased. Bastien didn't have the time to answer, as he was hit square in the face with a snowball. As soon as the initial shock went down, he scanned their surrounding, searching for his offender. Erick was retreating in a direction completely not correct for his next class. 

"Mike, wanna help?"

The other boy didn't answer, just bent down, just like him, made a snowball and started to run in the general direction of Erick, who, at this point, was openly running away. Coward. 

The fight was intense and, when they entered the cafeteria, their hair was all wet. Which was quite funny for Bastien, as his longer hair gave him a possibility of shaking his head to get everyone around him wet as well. Girls did not appreciate it. 

The entire day he felt both intense anticipation and nervousness. It wasn't every day that one were to sit right next to a vampire whom they previously irritated. It was nice to have a distraction like this. He only set one glance at the table occupied by all five of the Cullens. Emmett, who previously glanced at him, smiled and mimicked his behavior with his own dripping hair, getting a similar reaction from the girls. It seamed as if they were enjoying the first snow just like everyone else, the three boys had their hair wet, and they were smiling. 

He saw the change in them. They were less pale, the dark shadows under their eyes long gone. They must have hunted. Suddenly, he noticed something else. They eyes were golden. Not black, not red. Golden. He started to wonder if he maybe was mistaken this entire time, and they weren't vampires. How was that even possible?! He dismissed his doubts, certain he was right, just from their reactions. Maybe they were wearing contact lenses? Séverin told him some vampires did that to fit in for some time, but... why golden? It made no sense at all, it was to unusual of a color to 'fit right in', and wouldn't they be wearing them the previous time as well? And wouldn't they choose to wear different colors each, if they were posing for adopted siblings? He decided to ask, if he ever got a chance to talk politely with them. 

Once the lunch was over, he headed to biology in the company of Angela, who asked him shyly to watch out for snow balls. She wasn't really keen on the idea of getting stuck in the crossfire of snowballs, so he played the role of a bodyguard like the gentleman he was raised to be. Once he entered the classroom and saw their table unoccupied, he took a deap breath, adjusted his black turtleneck and went to take his seat calmly, automatically correcting his posture, even though his hips ached. 

He sat on his chair as the teacher distributed one microscope and a box of slides to each table. Bastien heard clearly as, just a moment later, the chair next to him moved and another guy took his seat. 

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice. "I'm Edward Cullen. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself last week."

Bastien looked up from his notes, carefully looking at him. His hair was still damp, just as Bastien's, from a snow fight earlier that day. He was just sitting there, not far from him, but not close enough to make him uncomfortable, looking relaxed. But there was a certain degree of wariness in his eyes. 

"I'm Bastien Swan." He introduced himself politely, reaching out to shake his hand, out of sheer habit. He looked surprised for a moment, but soon the habit seamed to kick in for him as well, because he shook his hand. His skin was cool to the touch, but not as much as it would be for other people. Bastien learned that his own temperature dropped a few degrees after he bonded with Séverin, so the cold skin of his lab partner didn't bother him that much. 

The lab was easy, they were to identify fazes of mitosis represented by their slides. Soon they were finished, pure professionalism between them, though they checked each other's answers, as if not trusting the other to do it right. The teacher actually thought it was Edward who did it, but they both explained that he worked as well, he simply knew how to do this experiment from his previous school. 

That left them quite a lot of time. 

"So," started Edward, as if not really knowing what to say. "I saw the announcement about the gymnastic club. Impressive. Quite a talented person, aren't you?"

So this was how it was going to be. A seemingly innocent conversation, hiding a deeper meaning, as if a test of both his intentions and intelligence. Well, he was all for that. 

"Raw talent is never enough. If an ability is not practiced, it doesn't develop, wastes away."

This made him smile, as if a slight touch of offense didn't bother him this time. 

"You must be training a lot, then. By the way, I'm excited about the snow, how about you?"

"Yes, I like it. Even if I didn't, everything is better than rain."

Edward snorted quietly under his breath. 

"So you don't like rain. Then, may I ask, why did you came to live here?"

And here it was, The Question. 

"It's... complicated."

"I think I can keep up."

For a brief moment Bastien wondered whether to lie or not, deciding on the truth, not willing to make this strange companionship just a pharse built on lies. "My mother got remarried last year."

"That doesn't seam so complex. So, you don't like her new husband?"

"No, that's not it." He explained. "He's really nice. Older than her, but I guess I can understand why she fell for him. He's smart and polite, even handsome, I'd say, you know? Dark hair, red eyes and all."

Here it was. Hidden under a shroud of babbling was an important information which, for a brief moment, made Edward look taken aback. 

"Red? That's unusual."

"Yeah, I know. Many years ago he developed a condition that made them look like that. He actually believes my mother has a high potential of developing it as well, and very soon."

After that, Edward fell silent. It wasn't so unbelievable that a vampire would fall for a human and then change them, as even Aro did that with his wife, Sulpisia. However, since their existence had to remain a secret, it became unbelievably rare for a vampire to take such a great risk. 

"So why didn't you stay with them?" He asked finally.

"Séverin lives a... complicated life. My mother wanted to be a part of it, but, since I was there, she couldn't, not really. So I agreed to come here, to make her happy." Here it was, out in the open. A little bit of truth never killed anyone. Did it?

"But now you're unhappy." He stated. 

"And?" He made it sound like a challenge. 

"That seams unfair."

"So is life." Basitein was getting more irritated now. Edward, as if sensing his mood and wanting to fix it, changed the subject. 

"So, did coach Clapp made you run the club in exchange for your grade?"

"Precisely. He will supervise from time to time, and I don't have to attend his classes."

"That seams fair, considering you are about to help him in his own job. Nothing like a guy in tights to make teenage girls do some exercising."

Bastien actually laughed at that. He covered his mouth with a hand to make it as quiet as possible, but Edward must have heard him snort. He struggled to control his face as he turned back towards him. 

"I suppose you'd know it better than me."

Oh, Edward must have been amusing himself all day listening to all those amused, snickering idiots wondering about him wearing something shiny and stupid, or some others, thinking if he will be wearing tights and, if so, will the outline of his 'friend' be visible. He wasn't stupid, he knew what people were thinking of male aerialists. The exact same things they were thinking of him as a figure skater he no longer was...

Edward's smile was cheeky, as he remembered the thoughts of his classmates. 

"Will Mike Newton be attending?"

Oh, if he wanted to play dirty, so be it. Two can play this game. 

"I don't think so. Why, would you like to see him wearing tights?" One corner of his lips raised before he could even finish this sentence. 

"Not really, but I believe he'd like to see you in it." He teased right back. 

"I was told I look exceptionally good in it, so I don't really blame him." Bastien didn't even notice they were leaning closer to each other. 

"Maybe I will come to take a look, then." Was it just his imagination, or was Edward's voice so sensual by nature?

"Be my guest. The club starts in two weeks, but I come here practically every day to train after hours." Now Bastien was speaking in a low voice, quietly. 

"Are you offering me a private show of your acrobatic skills?"

"What would you do if I was?"

It seamed as if his tongue darted to moist his lips, but it was so fast Bastien wasn't quite sure he saw that. In a next moment Edward moved away, looking at the teacher who started to talk again. Bastien blinked, surprised at how far they moved from their initial places. When the bell rang, Edward rushed out, just like last Monday. 

Bastien felt a strange sensation inside, one he didn't feel for such a long time that he couldn't identify it properly. What just happened? Was he just teasing, or was he... Was he flirting with Edward Cullen?! A vampire, and an annoying one... Great Gaia, he was turning into his mother.

Mike showed up at his table quickly, complaining about the level of difficulty the lab presented, and telling him how lucky he was to have already done that in his previous school. 

"Cullen seamed nice today, huh?" He didn't seam pleased about it. Instantaneously, an image of Mike in tights came to Bastiens mind, making him want to laugh again. 

"Actually, he was teasing me about he club."

"Really?" Mike sounded annoyed now. "You know, if he's being mean to you about it..."

"Not mean," Corrected Bastien swiftly, "just teasing. It was actually funny."

Mike wasn't really happy anymore. 

***

That evening, when Bastien came to the gym, he was more composed than he was in a few days. He put on some music and started to warm up and stretch, before climbing up on the aerial silks and beginning his actual training. He had a few moves he needed to work on in order to get good enough to show them to anyone. Particularly one, dangerous move, when he free fell down and, in the last moment, caught himself on the silks, stopping head down, straight like a candle, holding only on his hands, with his face so close to the ground his hair was touching the hard floor. For now, he tried to gain control over the point where he stopped, much farther away from the ground than his initial goal. He knew the risk, he knew if he fell, he would most likely brake his neck and die or, in case he was lucky, brake his spine. It was dangerous, so he had to make sure he had absolute control over the situation, before he would even think of going lower. 

He was doing some pretty impressive, but not so dangerous tricks to "Dynasty" by MIIA, when he felt a rush of cool air on his skin. Someone entered the gym, and he had a pretty good idea who that might be. Not looking at his guest, he made a perfect split, head up, then turned, so is head was directed to the ground, holding the silks in his hands and... he let go. Ha was falling down with no safeguard. The ground was getting closer and closer, but he resisted the urge to try and stop at the bottom. Instead, he ended up with hands outstretched to the sides, holding himself mere two feet above the hard, wooden floor. Just at the end of the song. Perfect timing. 

He heard a clapping sound near him, loud enough to be audible above his hard breathing. He put his hands together in front of himself to get higher and let himself turn and fall to his feet and stand gracefully. 

He was surprised to find out all seven of the Cullens were standing in front of him. He half expected Edward to show up, but all of them?! He was getting nervous. He saw a tall blond he'd never met before, who held an arm loosely around the waist of a slender woman with the caramel-coloured hair. From what he heard at school cafeteria (and a brief interrogation of Charlie) they must have been Curlisle and Esme Cullen. 

The one clapping was Alice, the girl who looked like a fairy. She stepped up before anyone had a chance to do anything and held out her hand. 

"We haven't properly met yet. I'm Alice, it's nice to meet you. That was quite impressive, you know?"

Bastien mechanically shook her small hand, taken aback by how overly present, how open and joyful she was. And how fast she spoke. 

"I'm Bastien Swan, it's nice to meet you as well. And thank you for the compliment, though I plan to get only two inches above the ground, not two feet."

"Ow, I know, it will look great."

She was weird, and Bastien wasn't really sure what to make of it. Luckily, Dr Cullen seamed to understand how uncomfortable he was, and made a step in his direction. His adoptive daughter stepped aside to let the two men shake their hands. 

"I'm Carlisle Cullen, pleased to meet you." He took a step back, as if not wanting Bastien to feel trapped. Even if it was just an illusion of freedom, it didn't go unappreciated. 

"I hope you don't find it offensive for us to meet you like this. We thought it would be much better than entering your personal space at your home, and we didn't expect you to trust us enough to accept an invitation to our house. Still, we should keep this private." He seamed nice, not unsure of himself, not arrogant, just nice and civil, speaking quietly with a brief British accent. His smile was polite, so Bastien smiled back and answered.

"Not at all, I think it rather considerate of you."

"I believe you know that in this particular situation we all needed to be present at this conversation. We are a family, and it wouldn't be fair to leave someone behind, without a chance to speak up their mind."

"Indeed. I, on the other hand, hope you understand why I might not be entirely comfortable in the company of so many of you."

"Can we get on with it? Why all the small talk?" A melodious voice filled with irritation belonged to Rosalie, the classically beautiful blond. Carlisle looked at her disapprovingly, then, looking a bit embarrassed, turned back to Bastien. 

"I'm sorry, Rosalie just..."

"Don't be." He interrupted as politely as possible. "I understand she might be irritated by being kept in the dark. If you have a question, go ahead and ask. I do not promise you the answers to them all, but I will try."

He really tried to be nice. Not out of fear. He wasn't afraid, not really. Nervous, yes, but not truly scared. He just didn't want them to think of him as someone with bad manners, or worse, a threat of some sorts. 

"It's very kind of you." Said Esme. "We understand that the presence of our king might make you..."

"I'm sorry to interrupt you," He did it again. "but it is simply the fact I don't know you that makes me wary. I believe everyone would be cautious if surrounded by seven strangers."

"How do you know about what we are?" Rosalie's patience seamed to end here. Bastien turned to look at Edward, honestly surprised. "You didn't tell them?"

The bronze haired vampire smirked subtly. "I thought you should decide what you told them."

"Very considerate of you. Especially for someone who has no problem listening to other people's unprotected thoughts." He said it in a mild tone, with a note of amusement as he smirked back, returning his gaze to the blond beauty. "To answer your question in a... relatively short way, my mother got remarried last year. Her second husband is a vampire. I discovered that fact two years ago, noticing some aspects of him that I found difficult to explain in a rational way. He taught me a lot, so it was rather easy for me to notice the similarities."

They were surprised, but seamed to believe him. 

"Does she know?" Asked Carlisle. 

"Of course. He intended to tell her since the very beginning." Then, with a small smile, he added: "Although, I had to force him to do it, since he would probably wait until the horns announced he was out of time and the Apocalypse came."

That escalated a few small chuckles, mostly from Carlisle, who seamed to be the most calm and relaxed out of them all. Then an impatient question came. 

"Why do you smell like that?" Asked Jasper, a tiny bit less stiff than usually, but still tensed. 

"Pardon me?" Bastien raised an eyebrow at him, not sure if he misheard or not. The blond, apparently noticing how rude his question was, or rather noticing the disapproving look in Esme's eyes, corrected himself quickly. "I mean that you don't smell like other humans." That was smooth, thought Bastien sarcastically. 

"If you are talking about the non appealing smell of my blood, and I assure you that beating around the bush is unnecessary, then I have no problem with answering. It's due to the bond Séverin, my mother's husband, formed with me. He did it in order to keep me safe from afar and, more importantly, to prevent any member of his own coven from... doing something reckless."

"Talking about beating around the bush." Commented Edward, which annoyed Bastien a little. 

"I believe there is a difference between being polite and scared of speaking the words."

"Edward, " admonished him the motherly figure amongst them. "you're forgetting yourself. Please, do try to be civil, would you?"

Edward seamed much smaller under her gaze. Bastien knew she wasn't his biological mother, due to the age gap visible between them, but it seamed as though she filled in this position in every other way. He knew the pain of disapproval in his mother's eyes, so he decided to help him out, just a little. 

"It seems it's already becoming a tradition for there to be some banter between us, doesn't it? Most of today's biology passed like this."

Bastien really thought he should get on with it when his gaze shifted to Rosalie. "If you were worried I would tell someone, you may all be certain I have no plans to do so. It would go against my own intention. Besides, It would get an unimaginable event for me to spill someones secret so carelessly." His eyes went from one face to another, scanning all the Cullens carefully. 

"We would really appreciate your discretion." Said the good doctor. "Normally, we'd be out of town already, but, considering those unusual circumstances..." He left it at that. 

"I would hate to be the reason why you'd have to move. Believe me when I say that."

They silently agreed to keep each others secrets and coexist peacefully. Bastien wouldn't be able to come back to his training after this, even if he had the necessary strength, so he headed out with them, grabbing his backpack. 

Edward made a comment about his clothes: black sweatpants and a simple, long-sleeved black shirt, as they walked as the last ones slowly, quite near each other. 

"No tights?"

"I still can't get the mental image of Mike in my club from my head." Bastien smirked back. 

Edward laughed at that, not snorted, nor chuckled, but actually laughed. 

"Well, what does it say about you?"

"Nothing I didn't already know. The question is, what does it say about you? After all, you asked about him first." He bit right back. 

For a moment it seamed Edward was embarrassed. Then, he regained his composure and responded: "I suppose it says the most about Mike Newton, he was the one to start it by planting that image in my head."

"I'd ask if he was thinking about himself or someone else, but frankly, I think that you brought it on yourself by listening to his thoughts."

"First of all, he was thinking of you, second of all, I feel no remorse, I don't have any control over that. "

After hearing this, Bastien fell silent, stopping right where he stood, as silent and motionless as the members of this strange clan who, up until now, listened in amusement. It wasn't often that Edward had to make an effort to outsmart someone in a conversation, already knowing their response before it came. They were really enjoying themselves. Meanwhile, Bastien stood there, surrounded by vampires, shocked out of his mind. 

"Are you trying to tell me that during your whole life you didn't gain any control of your gift above the basics?" His voice was so surprised it stunned the others. "I mean... it took me only two years to develop it to the point where it's no longer the same thing it was naturally, and... how could you be still at the beginning?" His brows were furrowed, he just couldn't believe it. 

"You mean that he CAN control that?" Emmett asked, as if none of them ever paused to think about it. Bastien shifted his gaze to the giant male. "I'm over 90% certain he can, with little effort."

Edward said nothing. 

"If he hasn't tried before, I can only guess the reason." Bastien continued. But he was met with silence, and he was right next to his car. When no one spoke, he gave up with a sign. 

"It was... interesting, to meet you. I hope we can all speak again, maybe in a better atmosphere." He kindly nodded at them, especially Carlisle and Esme, whom he thought the nicest of them all, and headed home. 

***

Once he arrived, he learned that Charlie had already eaten what Bastien made and was watching some match he himself wasn't at all interested in. They spoke very briefly and Bastien headed back to his room to lie down and think.

It wasn't long before his phone rang. The blond groaned, rising a little from his bed to reach to the bedside table tor the source of this disturbing sound. He raised an eyebrow at seeing thee unknown number, but picked up nonetheless. 

"Are you deliberately keeping me out of your mind?" Edwards voice greeted him without any niceties. 

"Yes, I am." Answered the young man, not bothering to properly greet him either and laying back down. 

"Why?"

"And why shouldn't I?" Basien asked, half composed, half teasing. "Does it really affect you so much, NOT to be able to have advantage over someone? Thoughts are meant to be private."

"You just sound so smug, having advantage over me." He bit back. 

"You seam to be under the impression that I have an upper hand in this situation. Let me desillusion you." His voice hardened. "Almost every person in this world has to guess what others might think. Aside from some extremely rare exceptions, people don't hear other's thoughts. I don't have the upper hand. I don't hear your thoughts. In this particular aspect, we are equals." Edward went silent. "Something tells me it's been a long time since you encountered an equal mind."

There was silence on the other side for so long he actually checked if he hadn't accidentally hung up, when, finally, he heard it. "You have no idea how long." Then it all spilled like water. "It's frustrating, you know? I always know what others are thinking, and, when you showed up and I couldn't, it was... it was so different, frustrating. I had to know."

"Had? Aren't you curious any longer?" How disappointing. 

"Of course I am." That was better. "Do you really think I can make it stop?" He was hesitant. 

"Do you want to?"

"... I don't know." There it was. The strength of the habit, so powerful it was like a chain. 

"I understand. You are used to it, it's an useful gift, and, no matter if you are willing to admit it or not, you learned to like it. With this skill, you are never at the disadvantage."

"You aren't making it any easier."

"Making what easier?"

Silence again. Bastien waited patiently, stretched on his bed, looking at the white ceiling and imagining snow-like patterns on it. 

"Do you think... Could you maybe... May I..." Edward apparently wasn't sure how to say whatever he wanted to, which was a little bit funny. He didn't know what Bastien was thinking, how he'd take it, and that made him nervous. "I was pondering what you said today, and earlier. About training, and how it helped you develop new skills. So, since I don't really know how, I was wondering if, maybe..."

"Are you trying to ask if I'd be interested in training with you?" He showed him mercy at last. 

"Yes." He sounded grateful. Bastien made a soft humming noise and considered his options. He wanted to train with the mind reader. It was an opportunity for both of them to develop. On the other hand, there were many disadwantages he simply shouldn't forget. Edward was a vampire, which by itself should make it impossible, no matter how well-behaved he was. He was weary of sharing his personal space with him, and he would most certainly NOT let himself be invited to their home. One should never enter the lion's den, even if they were no prey to them. That would pose a problem. Besides, should Edward learn how to breach his barriers before he learned how to raise them again, he would see things Bastien was not comfortable sharing. 

"Can you give me some time to consider it? I can't say I'm not interested, but I need to think."

"It wouldn't be fair of me to demand an immediate answer, I guess."

"Can't we just talk for a moment?" Where did that came from? Bastien didn't know. He just sensed it could be the moment where they hung up, and he wasn't quite ready for that yet. 

"I don't think I mind." He sounded a little taken aback, but not uncomfortable. As if he said the truth, but his own reaction surprised him. 

"It might be foolish of me to ask, but how did you get my number?"

He heard laughter. "It wasn't hard, we have our ways. In this case, I peaked at the monitor while Mrs Cope was filling in some of your personal data."

"Why am I not surprised?" He said nonchalantly. To his actual surprise, they felt comfortable talking to each other. They discussed literature, he told Edward some of his favorites were "Crime and Punishment", "The picture of Dorian Gray" and "The Count of Monte Cristo". He told him how he hated "Romeo and Juliet" and Edward seamed a little shocked at his harsh feelings toward the classic he tried to defend. They discussed the schooling program and the differences between USA and France in this matter, and a few others. At some point Bastien felt comfortable enough to ask about the unusual color of Edward's family's eyes, and was shocked to discover the cause. He honestly never thought about such a thing. They discussed it thoroughly, even as it was a much more delicate matter. Bastien was intrigued and had a lot of things to ponder. At some point he yawned and noticed his eyes were getting heavy. He was so tired...

"Are you all right?" Asked the voice on the other side of the line, but Bastien couldn't make any sense of the words. 

"Hm?" was all he could manage, but it was enough to bring Edward back to the reality. He must have forgotten his interlocutor needed sleep. 

"It's 2:30 AM, you know?" Bastien's surprise was dulled by the haze covering his brain. "You should go to sleep. I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier, it's just... I rarely talk so much to someone beside my family, and our sleeping habits are completely different from those of humans, not that it excuses me."

"C'est rien." (It's nothing) Bastien's brain couldn't focus enough to notice he slipped into French. There was an audible intake of breath, and then: "Bonne nuit, Bastien." (Good night, Bastien). He had a nice accent, Bastien noticed thru the haze. "Bonne nuit, Edward". He fell asleep just a second after, missing the slight change in the way the other one was breathing, when he said his name.


	3. Undertune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too tired for notes. Soon we'll get some interesting action.

Bastien woke up feeling stiff and very uncomfortable. His left leg felt numb all the way from his foot up to his ass, making it very hard to move. He groaned and rose himself on his arms, peeking through his nearly closed eyelids and noticing the culprit of his state. He fell asleep in his clothes, and the leg of his jeans twisted around the limb he was lying on, cutting off nearly all the circulation. As the blood began to flow, he was growing more and more uncomfortable, tingling bordering on the verge of actual pain. He glanced at the alarm clock and sighed. It was nearly time to wake up anyway, so he got up clumsily and went to the bathroom to take a shower to help him calm down and forget his dream. 

The screech of the tires, a flash of light, a scream. Blood, a lot of it...

The warm water worked miracles on his stiff muscles, helping him get ready for another day of school. He put on some skinny black jeans and a Lifehouse t-shirt, which made him look mainstream, but still cool.

Bastien never understood those who got too caught up in their complexes to notice their own attractiveness, or those who felt like thinking well of themselves was some form of narcissism. He liked to look good, after all he didn't work out for most of his life for nothing. He might never be bulky like, for example, Emmett, due to his built he would always be skinny, but he was lean and muscled, and he wasn't about to hide his attractive figure. The outfit he chose was perfect for it, giving him some much-needed confidence. Who said only girls gained confidence by looking well?

He ate his breakfast with Charlie, telling him that he felt great at school and how everyone was polite, how coach Clapp told him he already had some freshly signed members for gymnastic club. He didn't want to make his father worried, but the man was not stupid. 

"I'm glad you are doing so well, but remember, you promised to visit the school psychologist if things were to get too hard for you. You took a year off from competitions to get better, not to overwork yourself." Bastien fell silent. Up untill now, Charlie didn't even mention what happened after the last season was over. Now, the new one just begun, and for the first time since he was 8 years old, he did not participate. He said he would take just one year off, to mourn his loss and get a grip of himself, but honestly, he was considering retiring once and for all. He just felt like...

"Don't worry, papa. I work a lot, but it helps me feel better. I feel like I have to be doing something, you know?"

Bastien gave him a sad smile, lowered his gaze and left for school, forcing the feeling of loss and emptiness deep down, back where it came from. He couldn't afford to fall apart before he even got to start his day. 

***

Luckily, the day went smoothly. Mike was chattering all the time, making it easier for Bastien's silence to go unnoticed. At least for the less perceptive ones, as while he was sitting in biology, listening to the lecture, a paper slip was pushed in his direction. At the top of said slip was a single sentence written in a neat handwriting.

" I happened to notice you are being far more quiet than usual." 

Bastien simply shrugged and turned his eyes back to the blackboard, where Mr Banner was explaining the processes taking place inside the body of some kinds of bacteria. On the periferics of his eye-field he noticed a movement, and heard the sound of paper moving on the table-top. Once again he turned his eyes slightly to the side to look at the slip pushed closer to him.

"Did you get any sleep after we finished talking? Are you just that tired?"

The corner of his lips twitched. It was adorable how the vampire seamed to be concerned weather or not he was the cause of his mood. Bastien took a pen into his left hand in order to remain in the same position and not bring the teacher's attention to them, and wrote in his small, tight handwriting: 

"I've slept. It is simply not the best day for me."

"Did something happen?" - came the nearly immediate answer. 

"It's nothing, I'm just feeling a little off. More importantly, it's disrespectful to send notes in class, don't you think?"

He wanted to change the subject and, fortunately, Edward was willing to oblige. 

"We both know there is hardly anything Mr Banner could teach us, so there is no harm in being a little inattentive. We have more important matters to discuss, don't you think?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"I didn't expect you to. But I'm very curious about the nature of your gift."

*A matter this important should not be discussed on paper.* Bastien spoke into Edwards mind. He inhaled sharply, but nodded to permit him to speak this way. 

*In its very nature, my gift is not about mind arts. This is an aspect of it I developped by training. Originally, it's about adapting, both physically and mentally. That's why I can't go to hospitals, you know? Once I was first given some medicine, I became immune to most of them. Once I encounter someone gifted, I quickly become immune to their abilities. Séverin can influence people, what they think of him and what is the focus of their attention. That's how I became immune to others trying to influence me or enter my mind. That's also why I am interested in training with you. To a certain extent I can imitate the abilities of others, so training with you would be a great opportunity for me. *

Bastien wondered if he should keep talking, but, after all, Edward would probably learn it soon either way, so there was no harm, was there?

*It seems to run in my family. My parents might have it in a smaller amount, but Séverin can't influence my mother without her knowing, and he said my father is hard to influence as well. I was actually thinking about asking you... can you hear his thoughts?*

Bastien turned his face towards Edward, just so he could see his face more clearly. Then, the bronze haired boy did something unexpected - instead of writing a response, he slowly moved closer to Bastien, turning fully towards him, his face close to the other boys as he whispered. 

"I can hear their outline, sometimes a few words, but they are unclear. Your mind is, however, fully obscured from my senses. I have never met anyone so completely immune to my gift. Which is for most part the reason why training with you appeals to me so much."

"Most part? So there are other reasons?"

He spoke out loud, distracted by the other ones closeness, his eyes and the scent... He smelled like rain, musk and clean clothes, and predator - the sharp undertone that sent a single shiver to his spine. 

"I enjoyed our little talk. You are intelligent, and you have a sharp tongue, but also... you make me curious. I am rarely curious, because I always know what secrets hide in the consciousness of those around me. I can't help but wonder: what secrets do you hide? What kind of person you really are, what do you keep out of sight, deep inside?"

His words sounded both like seduction and a threat. Bastien smirked and whispered back. 

"People don't like sharing their secrets, you know? So, if you were hoping to make me agree, I'm afraid you failed."

"Did I, now?"

...Did he...?

***

Since the club was still inactive, Bastien was free to go home after biology, to take advantage of his additional free time to catch up on sleep. It was a nice, refreshing nap that made him feel blissfully drowsy afterwards, slipping in and out of his slumber for almost an hour before he stood up to go to the kitchen and make himself some hot cocoa. He didn't often enjoy it, but a bitter cocoa made him feel warm and cozy, which, he decided, was something he needed right now. 

Sitting on the couch in warm socks and a cup between his hands, Bastien managed to forget his morning flashback in order to ponder over the pros and cons of training with Edward. In his opinion the pros were very promising, but he just couldn't make his decision... 

He took out his phone and wrote a message. 

I intend to ask Séverin for his opinion on me training with you. In order to do this I have to tell him some information about you. I figured out it is only right to ask your permission.

Pocketing his phone he went to make some food for himself and Charlie. Figuring he'd be happy enough with some spaghetti he made just that, since, after a certain moment, it practically made itself, so he didn't have to be very attentive. While he was cutting onion and mushrooms his phone vibrated in his back pocket, signalizing a message. Wiping his hands he took it out and read:

I'm glad you asked, but you can tell him whatever you need to. My family doesn't mind being mentioned either. 

Thank you, and please thank your family, if you'd be so nice. 

It's nothing. Good to hear you have someone to give you advice when you need it. 

After that he finished cooking and called Séverin. 

(I will not write it in French, I doubt anyone not french-native would read it.)

\- Bastien, did something happen?

\- I appreciate your concern, but you should calm down a little. Nothing happened per se, but I have something that I'd like to ask you to help me with. 

\- What would it be?

Bastien took a deep breath and answred:

\- Well, to begin with, I've met vampires here in Forks, and...

\- What?! In Forks? And more than one? You are coming ba....

\- Wait a second! - he interrupted, before Séverin could get worked up. - They are not what I would expect, and most certainly not what you are thinking. They are very different. 

\- Different how?

Explaining their unusual diet and lifeways took a lot of time, but it was worth it. After discussing the opportunity he had, to train with someone with such an unusual gift, Bastien gave his mothers lover some time to think. 

\- I will not lie, I am very curious about the results you could get from this, and I'd like to think that he is a decent young man. But you need to remember vampires are predators. The enticing appearance helps us lure a pray into a trap, so you need to be careful and listen to your instincts. If you don't feel safe, don't do it. If you do, stay cautious. 

\- Thank you for advice. I'll think about it. - after a moment he added - How is she?

\- "She?" If you mean your mother, she's fine, she's adapting very well. If you mean Agnès, she's as bright as always. She misses you, thou, so do us all a favor and call her soon. 

\- I will. 

There was a sound from the outside - Charlies car. 

\- I have to go now. 

\- Stay out of trouble. 

\- Can't promise you that. 

With this he ended the call and welcomed his father. They ate in silence and Bastien kept thinking. 

Should he trust Edward? Was the risk worth it?

Later on, laying in his bed, he stared at his phone, before finally texting.

How about tomorrow after you finish Spanish, at my place?


	4. First lesson

The following day, Bastien was feeling weird. He rarely had guests at all, even back home, even before things got complicated. He enjoyed privacy and peace, so beside his closest friends, he never really liked visitors. It didn't help that this particular visitor was a psychic vampire, and an attractive one. It made him feel conflicted... 

Bastien knew he didn't feel anything for Denis and didn't want him around. He knew he was only in this "relationship" because there simply wasn't any way out of it. He knew Denis was bad for him, that the things he was doing to him were terrible not only for his body, but for his mental health as well. All this considered, shouldn't he be disgusted at the very thought of flirting, of being close to someone? Wasn't that how people usually reacted? He felt bad for being attracted to Edward. There was also the part that Denis was still labeling himself Bastien's boyfriend - wasn't what he was doing considered cheating, then? Being attracted to another person and getting close with them, even flirting a little?! He thought that maybe he should feel guilty, and in a way he did, but... he just felt insincere. 

Those were the thoughts that occupied his head the entire morning. To distract himself from them he planned his lessons on the back of his notebook, thinking of what he might do for the first few meetings of his club, how to get started, how to best check if everyone was flexible enough to go further. It worked to some extend, filling his mind with something he enjoyed instead of his worries - his psychologist taught him to do that when things became overwhelming, to avoid panic attacks - to focus on something methodic or a small object in his proximity, taking in every detail and describing it in his mind, making his worries seam smaller. It worked for him, so he decided to take the advice to his heart. 

By lunchtime his nervous stomach settled down enough for him to notice that he was, in fact, quite hungry, so he decided to have something more from the cafeteria than just a salad or vegetables, snacking also a not-so-small sandwich that looked actually quite appealing, for school food. Sitting in the company of his, by now, usual group of classmates, he listened to their conversations, adding a sentence here and there, keeping his mind busy. 

"Edward Cullen is staring at you." - whispered Jessica near his ear. 

"Is he, now?" His voice was amused as he gently turned his head to look in his direction from the corner of his eye. Edward was, in fact, looking his way, not turning his gaze and their eyes met, boldly, as if challenging Bastien to look away first. That, simply, wasn't going to happen - he was way too easy to accept a challenge for that. Smirking, he kept looking, gently getting closer to Jessica who, suddenly, sat more straight than before, gently pushing out her bust. "Maybe he's looking at you." He whispered near her ear in a voice a little lower than usual, feeling her tremble just so. Edward raised his eyebrow at that, and Bastien boldly copied the gesture, only half-listenning to the girl's response. 

"I... I really think he's looking at you."

"Is that so?" He moved away, not wanting to make the poor girl any more uncomfortable or give her a wrong idea with his little game. Still turned towards Edward, he smirked again and... winked. That seamed to have broken their weird connection as the vampire suddenly looked away bashfully. 

It was amusing, while it lasted. But after a moment Bastien seamed to have regained his lost brain, scolding himself in his mind. 

*No! Bad French Boy! We don't drag innocent girls into stupid games, we don't play mind games with a mind-reading vampire! We don't flirt with said vampire, and we most certainly don't WINK AT HIM! Bad!* 

He felt like a naughty dog scolded by his owner, even thou he did it himself. He felt disappointed in himself, not understanding his own behavior. One moment he was conflicted, then he was playful and flirty, and conflicted again? Is that how people descend into madness?

He was excited and nervous to go to biology, because it meant not only sitting next to Edward, but also that the hour of their meeting was getting inevitably closer. Walking to class with Angela seamed a lot slower than it was just a day before...  
Edward remained quiet for maybe ten minutes of their class. Bastien was starting to think the other boy was incapable of staying quiet.

"Poor Jessica, you confused her so much at lunch today..."

Well, fuck. That was precisely what Bastien needed... 

"I simply couldn't resist messing with you just a little bit. Hope I didn't end up accidentally playing with her feelings?"

"Only a little bit."

Shit. He'd have to apologize... Bastien gave a heavy sigh and tried to make notes that he knew he didn't need. The clock ticked and the silence was breached again. 

"Does your silence mean that our lesson should be postponed?"

Enough was enough. "My silence means that we're in class! Can you be quiet for a second?!" He asked in a heated whisper. He didn't get a response. 

Only once the lecture was finished and everyone was getting their stuff packed did Bastien pay attention to the statement, turning fully towards the pale teenager and leaning a little closer. 

"Our lesson is still scheduled as it was, unless you want to change it. And you really should not disrespect your teacher like this, even if you're smarter and better educated than him. Do you treat Carlisle like this?" With that, he just left for his home, to wait until Edward finished Spanish and got there. And so, he didn't see the shock on his face after the statement fell. 

***

Edward couldn't be more surprised if the boy suddenly slapped him in the face. Not only did he silence him in class (even thou neither of them needed to pay attention!), but he also called him disrespectful. And what did it have to do with Carlisle?! It was an entirely different situation. Carlisle was a fatherly figure to him, a wise and good man whom Edward respected greatly, while their teachers were just that - teachers, not very good ones at that. Trying their best (and only some did it) wasn't good enough to make him interested in their boring, easy lectures, and he knew it was the same for the blond, so why was he scolded like a child by this strange young man? How peculiar... 

Spanish seamed to last at least trice as long as it should. Emmett, who noticed what his brother and the French Boy were doing at lunch, continued to tease him with his thoughts.

"Flirting with the new guy, huh? Aren't you a bit too old for him?" "You gonna train with him today, or 'train', should I say?" "Try not to bite him while kissing."

Edward as not amused, rather pissed. He wasn't flirting! They were bantering, trying to outsmart each other, but not flirting! The very thought was ridiculous. The winking was only a humorous sign, nothing more, and it was all meant to irritate him. What was Emmett even thinking?!

Well, this he knew. He thought teasing his brother would be more amusing than getting bored at school, so he did just that. That was the only reasoning behind this nonsense and Edward refused to acknowledge any other cause. 

After classes, he drove his family back home, once again forced to listen to Emmett's teasing, just this time spoken out loud. Rosalie even stopped looking at her reflection in the window in order to join. 

"Aw, Edward, you didn't tell us you liked blonds after all." - Emmett kept saying.

"Maybe he just has a thing for sportsmen? That guy sure is flexible, didn't you all see him make a full split?" - she picked up. 

"Kinky." - commented Jasper with a tiny quirk of the corner of his lips, committing an ultimate betrayal in the driver's eyes. 

"Hey, stop teasing the poor guy!" - interrupted Alice. "Wouldn't it be nice if Edward actually found himself someone to at least talk to? Maybe he'd stop being grumpy..."

If anyone ever thought they weren't actual siblings, one look at their interactions would be more than sufficient to prove them wrong. The teasing and joking was all real and anyone with siblings knew how annoyed Edward was by now.

"Guys, I am honestly considering just dropping you off right here in mid-way."

"So eager to meet up with that pretty boy of yours?"

He gave up and just tried to focus on the road. Suddenly he was all the more eager to learn how to block the thoughts flooding his mind...

***

The shining volvo parked before his house just as "Total eclipse of the Heart" ended and "If you don't know me by now" started. Bastien sat on the couch comfortably, having returned to his training plans right after making something for Charlie to eat once he got back from work. Luckily, he had enough manners to ask Charlie if he could invite someone to study together, and enough brains not to tell him who it was, asking just before leaving for school, just to make sure he wouldn't be questioned. Charlie agreed, rather happy that his son was making friends, doing some much-needed socializing. 

With no rush, Bastien went to the door and opened it once a gentle knock came. It was strange - Edward Cullen stood at his door in a simple gray t-shirt and black pants, and he didn't seam to fit with the image of this small, simple porch, so casual and normal. He didn't seam to fit with Bastien either, who wore a navy turtleneck and dark jeans, somehow still looking more casual that the vampire. Maybe it was just the effect he had...

Bastien moved aside to let him in. The house was simple, but it was very clean, Edward noticed, taking in the unfamiliar place filled with the overwhelming smell of its inhabitants. He decided he liked the distinctive smell of his classmate. 

"Take off your shoes, please. This place is clean and I'd like to keep it that way."

Just because they were at his house, the blond wasn't going to treat him any different. Now THAT was strange - the sight of Edward bending down to untie his boots and leaving them by the door, walking in just his simple, black socks. It was a sight to behold and remember, for it made him look so... different, somehow. A bit casual, a bit funny, and more than a bit awkward as he stood there, just looking. 

Knowing it was rude to keep him waiting, Bastien spoke:

"Usually I'd offer you something to drink, but in this situation I'm not sure if you are interested."

Séverin once explained to him that vampires needed blood to live, but could still eat and drink regular food. It gave them a chance to survive longer without hunting, since the blood nourishing them could last longer this way, provided with a bit of essential nutrients, but not many chose to do so, as their tastes changed drastically and food was no longer very appealing to them. Still, he believed it only polite to ask. 

"Actually, a bit of water would be nice, thank you."

Ach, yes, water - the only other thing, beside oxygen, they really needed to survive, again, essential to keep the blood in their bodies running. Well, they could live without oxygen for a while, but it made the blood get used up very quickly.

The boy nodded and went to the kitchen, Edward following beside him, to give his guest a glass of water. 

"I hope you don't mind if I make myself some tea?"

"Not at all."

It was all awkward, overly polite on both ends, and Bastien hoped it wouldn't stay like this for long, or else he'd go crazy. He wasn't used to it... 

The tea was ready far too quickly. Throwing out the tea bag he made his way to the livingroom and sat on the couch, followed closely by the vampire. He sat as well, maintaining a safe distance, looking absurdly uncomfortable. 

"So... how are we going to do this?" He asked, sounding unsure. 

Bastien took a sip and put the tea on the table. "Simply, actually. The most important thing is for you to explain to me how you perceive your gift - without it I won't know how to help you."

Since the bronze-haired boy looked confused, he decided to elaborate. 

"For example I perceive my gift as an inborn ability of sorts. Just like you open your mouth and speak, I use my gift the same way, instinctualy. Since it resides in my subconsciousness, since it is like an inborn ability, it was difficult for me to find its source, like my stepfather does, finding it in his head. So instead, for me it runs thru my whole body, is a part of me, all the way to the very core of my existence. When I train feel like I expand it around myself, like I expand MYSELF, just like when I train physically. Just like I move my limbs and form a pose, I move my ability and force it to take certain form, turn into something solid. I don't know how you perceive your ability."

"I think I understand." Edward sounded focused and shifted slightly on the couch, making himself more comfortable. "It's... a little bit like additional hearing. Or additional sight, I'm not certain..."

"So it feels like one of your senses?" He tried. 

"Yes, very much so."

"That makes it easier - senses can be trained relatively easily, they come naturally to their owner, so it should be doable." He offered a tiny smile which Edward reciprocated, but quickly became focused again. 

"So how do I block it?"

"Hey, slow down!" He wanted to laugh. "I mean, you can close your eyes, but that doesn't mean you control your sight, right? You should start with understanding it better, being able to use it instead of just letting it run wild, and only afterwards you can try to shut it down. Don't jump head first into it, okay?"

Edward looked down and pondered for a moment, taking a sip of his water. Bastien liked his eagerness, but this thoughtful seriousness was great too. "It will take some time, won't it?" He asked in that melodious voice. 

"Like everything. You won't make a split the first day, you know? It takes some time to get stretched and ready, easing into this is the same. Going slowly, step by step, is the best you can do."

His guest nodded and exhaled, relaxing a little. He must have been nervous at the thought of suddenly loosing his ability - just like one would be scared of being blinded suddenly. Bastien sat a little bit closer, not to close, just enough to make the distance more natural and less wary. 

"I think you should start with controlling it better, being able to make it stronger or weaker, directing it, focusing it, before you change it. If it's constantly on, then that is your gift's natural state and you shouldn't change it like it's not a big deal. So for now, tell me more about it and I'll help you to the best of my abilities." He was sincere in everything he said. Somehow he liked the other boy, forming some strange friendship filled with teasing and taunting. Edward seamed to feel the same way, as he explained further. 

"I think it might be important that not all minds are the same to me. Some are louder, more distinguishable than others. Mostly those of my family, because I spend so much time with them and am used to the way they feel. But even with strangers some are very loud - people who are very open and sincere seam louder, those more closed - contradictory. Also, I can only sense one's current thoughts, I can't dig any deeper into their memories. Or, at least, I don't think I can..." He seamed unsure of what he used to take for granted, what he believed he knew. Bastien knew how that felt, so he just offered a sympathetic smile. 

"Maybe that will change - we'll see. For now - I want you to close your eyes and focus on your gift. Try to find its source, like your ears for hearing and your eyes for sight. Find the place where it's the strongest."

Edward did close his eyes. He knited his brows and gave a slight frown, focusing. Bastien observed him carefully. His eyes moved a little behind his eyelids and his lashes trembled a bit. How come he haven't noticed before how thick they were? A bit long, too, but not in a feminine way, more like... they made him look kinda soft. They must feel soft too. They touched his high cheekbones, pale and surely cool to the touch. His nose was straight, and with his deep focus a slight line was visible next to the corner of his full lips. The blond just looked, giving him as much time as he needed. When he seamed to be ready, Bastien spoke.

"Have you found it?"

"I think so..." He sounded out if it, his entire concentration directed inwards as he gently touched the center of his forehead before realizing what he did and taking the hand away immediately - as if embarrassed. Did he think Bastien would judge him for some 'chakra nonsense'?

"If it's your forehead, that's where it is and there is no reason to be embarrassed about it. It you have it, then tell me, can you hear anything? Any thoughts?"

Edward was silent for a moment, before responding. "Just an echo of thoughts, someone walking near the street."

"Good. Focus on it, tell me what are they thinking about."

Again he frowned before responding. "Just some kid thinking about skipping homework because it bores them."

"What you just did was focusing your gift on a certain purpose. I know you can already do that, 'cause you did that to me. It felt like a strong pressure, and it is, actually, quite annoying, if I'm to be honest. The first day you really pissed me off, it felt like you were poking me in the head with a stick all this time."

"Sorry." He muttered. 

"Don't be - you were trying to do something that comes naturally to you and I understand that. Now, try to do it again." Edward opened his eyes and looked at him, surprised. 

"Don't try to force my mind to open before you," - said Bastien hurriedly. - "I'm pretty sure you can't do this. Not yet, at least. Instead of trying to influence me, direct all that focus inwards - force your mind to breach mine, not the other way round."

***

They spent over an hour and a half there, but Edward's efforts were futile. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn't breach the other's mind. But he did say he felt more aware of his gift, so it wasn't a complete waste of time. They agreed to do it again. Since it was Tuesday and Bastien's club was to start on Monday, they agreed to meet up twice a week, on the days when the club wasn't meeting, so Mondays and Thursdays were consecrated for the club, as the blond has already agreed on those days with Coach Clapp, and Tuesdays and Fridays were the days of their lessons. 

Edward left before Charlie came back from work, so the chief didn't see anything unusual. The evening seamed to pass normally, until he asked the question, just as Bastien was going to sleep.

"So, was your classmate here?"

Bastien hesitated for a moment, before replying: "Yes, but he left shortly before you came back."

"Oh... and who have you befriended actually?"

"Ow, you know..." There was no point in lying, was there? "Edward Cullen."

That seamed to shock his father, actually. 

"You befriended Edward Cullen?"

"Well, yeah, is there something wrong about it?" Beside the fact that he was a vampire, of course. 

"Oh, no, not at all! I'm just surprised, that's all. The Cullens are nice people, really." Bastien knew. Charlie told him already. "Their kids just keep to themselves, so I was a bit surprised you got one to open up to you so soon."

"Yeah, Edward helped me with my Government classes, you know it was never my strongest subject. I noticed they are a bit of outsiders here and since I'm new, well... we just got along, I guess." This was not a lie, actually, so it was fine, right?

He went to sleep shortly afterwards, thinking about gymnastics and golden eyes. 

***

Te next day was more or less univentful. He ate lunch with his usual group, sat at biology with Edward and bickered with him a little via mind'speaking/ASL contact, mostly mocking the thoughts of other students. He gave his training plan to Coach Clapp to let him check it, came back home, cooked dinner and went for training. Afterwards he skyped his therapist, Yvette, and lied to her for an hour straight, telling her how he felt better and kept himself busy and how he spent little time with Denis, but it wasn't so bad. Then he called Denis and lied some more and finally went to sleep. 

***

By Friday his plan was already accepted, with only a little bit of changes and some suggestions from Coach Clapp, and he felt ready to start on Monday. His training session with Edward didn't go much better, but the boy was persistent and wanted to learn. He could actually feel his gift a little bit better now, and he trained a little at school as well, focusing on minds of his classmates, one at a time, to ground himself in his abilities. He still couldn't read Bastien's mind, only gave him a headache on Friday, but he felt he was making progress, so that was something. 

***

Saturday carried another visit from Denis. This time he took Bastien out for a moment, they told Charlie they'd go and buy some more ingredients for dinner. It was a terrible mistake on the blond's part. Charlie told Denis how his son made some friends at school, and apparently the brunet heard about this boy somewhere in town. He knew he was handsome, who his parents were, that they appeared rich and that Edward was the only one of them who was single. 

As Denis drove them to the store he pulled over to the roadside and took a hold of the blond's throat, pushing him into his seat. Bastien struggled to breath in his strong hold... 

"So you're already shaking your ass before some handsome rich kid, you little manwhore?! I take my eyes off you for one moment, ONE!, and you think you can fuck around?!"

His face was contorted with anger, his green eyes threatening and dangerous, and Bastien couldn't breathe. 

"No, D...is, I... avn't..." He couldn't breathe... 

Denis grunted and let him go. He coughed wildly, choking on air as it filled his burning lungs and raw throat. Denis started the car again and started to drive again, seemingly loosing interest. They got to the store and bought what they needed, Denis forcing himself on Bastien on their way back. They made out, the brunet again abusing the boy's delicate skin with his hands, lips and teeth, as Bastien reluctantly brought him to climax with his hand. He wasn't thinking when he did it - he never was. He just did what needed to be done, cutting his mind off of what was happening to his body, forcing the pain and disgust into the depths of his mind. Those feelings had to wait, they didn't belong in daylight. He allowed himself to feel this way only at night, alone in his room, as he cried himself to sleep, both his hands clasped on his face to muffle the sound of his sobbing, so that his father doesn't hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some problems with the idea of a school cafeteria - where I come from they aren't really common and those that exist are very different from each other, so for me it could mean anything. If someone has any hints or if they noticed I wrote something wrong - please let me know in a comment, I'd like to make it better. As always, if you guys have any questions, I'm eager to answer them.


End file.
